They start laughing and Gruffydd turns around to see me. He puts his thumbs up, so I’m guessing that means I don’t have to go and sleep with the dragons. Shrilly the priest whistles and everyone leaves there workplaces. Has he hypnotised them? Because it seems very likely by the way they’re walking like zombified dragon keepers. The priest pulls a big stone from beneath the church and stands on it. I’m praying that didn’t actually support the church or I’m going to flattened soon. “Bore da plant”, he starts and I switch off. I was rubbish at foreign languages in school. He then yatters on for several minutes and I politely laugh when they laugh and clap when they clap. However, I think they realise that I have no idea what I’m saying because the kids in the front clap in the middle of the speech to try and catch me out. The priest beckons me over to make a speech and am reluctantly pushed by Gruffydd onto the stone.

“Um, bore da plant, um, me going to stay here. Thank you”, I say with humungous gestures to try and make them understand what I’m saying. The priest looks at me strangely and sighs.

“Excuse me, um, sorry I didn’t quite catch your name”, he exclaims in perfect English.

“Kelly. Kelly Kennington”, I interrupt and he continues.

“Well Kelly, we can all speak English here, we just don’t choose to speak it because well, if we spoke English, we would be speaking a language not native to here. It would be like speaking a foreign language”, he announces and everyone chatters to each other in Welsh. “You’ll be staying in our guest house next to the mine. It is really lovely and has been equipped with the latest in technology”. I nod and thank him. Gruffydd then wanders up to me and smiles.

“So, do you know anyone here? I know you’re from America and everything, but, well, you never know”, he mumbles.

“Actually I do know someone from here. Tom something. He was an exchange doctor with our hospital in America”, I answer.

“Oh, Tom Morgan? Yeah, he’s from here. In fact, if you want to go see him, he’s in the third house on the left. He is one of the only people here that chose to become something other than a miner”, he says. I wave to him and wander off down the cobble road. Knocking on the third house’s door, I’m surprised to see a little boy open it. He’s wearing originally white clothes, but coal has stained them and his face. He’s wearing a fabric cap and has a glum look on his face.

“Hi, um, do you know where Tom is?” I ask him. He points out the back door and runs out. I follow him through to see Tom by an open fire with a huge cast-iron bakestone.

“Oh, hi”, he says glumly. ‘Hi’? That’s all I get? I’ve travelled over three thousand miles and all I get is a hi?!

“Um, so what ‘cha making?” I ask, feeling slightly uncool.
"Welsh cakes", he answers. "Sorry I'm not paying much attention, but I have to enter these for the eisteddfod".
"The what-what?", I say, maybe slightly too quickly. He ignores me and I realise I've overstayed my welcome. Smiling awkwardly, I step away and just as I'm going round the back to the cottage I bump into a woman carrying a ton of papers. She pushes past me huffing and walks to where Tom is. Someone's in a bad mood.
As I am about to go onto the main road, Gruffydd beckons me over into a cottage on the end that's slightly smaller than the rest. It has an arched porch and two little planters beneath the windows with a few daffodils. They're nodding their heads, like they're sizing me up or something. Inside is a slate floor and two wicker chairs beside a table. A big vase of none other than leeks is sitting in the middle of it. Does everyone water their vegetables here?
"Have a seat Kel", Gruffydd mutters. I do as he says and the chairs creek under my weight. It must be those extra cookies I had on the plane. He sits opposite me and smiles. Oh please don't say that's another creepy stalker on my life.
"So where you from?" he asks. Random.
"Um, well, I'm from New York", I reply.
"Oh the place that, um, I have no idea what's there I'm sorry", he says politely. Aww. He tried to make a joke about New York, but he has no idea where New York is. Okay, maybe I should stop calling them dragon keepers. "What's your story then?" he adds.
"What's with all the personal questions Gruf?" I blurt out.
"Oh, sorry, it's just Llewellyn (the priest) wanted to know about you. I  mean since you're staying here", he replies.
"Okay, so you want to know my story huh?" I say and he nods. "I was born in New York City Hospital to Wanda and Pietro Kennington. We live in The Garden Mansion and have two maids called Amelia and someone else. We have a butler who has been working for us for twenty years and I did have a boyfriend called Peter. Recently he's cheated on me as I was about to propose to him. My father's company has gone bankrupt due to something to do with damages and now my mother and father are on the brink of divorce. My mother was thinking about moving to Paris, but was unexpectedly run over and is now in a coma. I took the ticket and decided to go to Paris because I mean my life was pretty much a mess, but it got diverted here. You wanted my life story, well here it is mister", I yell. He looks sympathetic and holds my hands.
"I'm sorry Kel", he whispers. "Is there anything I can do to help?"
"I don't... I just..." I start.
"What? Whatever you need, I can get it for you", he answers.
"You know what, the thing that hurt me the most, Peter. I trusted him more than anyone and he betrayed me. I just need something to get me over him", I say.
"I know something that might help", he replies and takes hold of my face. Okay, um, not sure what to do now. Gazing into eachother's eyes, we spontaneously lock lips. Yep, that'll get me over Peter. I pull him away and he smiles broadly. "Thank you..." I whisper.
"No, thank you. That was my first kiss in ten years", he replies. He's good for an amateur.
"So, now you've heard my (very long) story, tell me yours", I change the subject.
"Well, my mother and father moved away when I was young and I was looked after by Llewellyn. He's sort of been like a father to me", he says.
"I'm sorry. Um, do you know a man called Alfred Jones? It's just you look so much like him", I ask.
"Oh, he was my father. Moved away to become some snobby rich family's butler", he mutters. He then looks at the expression on my face and sighs with his head in his hands. "You were that family, weren't you?"
"Yep", I answer and silence continues. Why is there so many awkward silences in my life? I mean seriously, what is up with that?
"Sorry, it's just my father abandoned me for people he hardly knew. I mean the money was good, but was it worth leaving his family behind? No", he says and starts to well up.
"I apologise for carrying on like this, but I have to ask. Have you got a daughter or a sister or brother with a daughter?" I ask. Maybe he can tell me Alfred's granddaughter's name. I mean that's been the mystery of the century.
"No, I haven't got any of them. Only child me", he replies cheerily.
"Right, um, well, I..." I stutter. Do I tell him about Alfred's mystery granddaughter or not? "So, never had any kids, or nieces or nephews?"
"No never. What's this about? What are you not telling me?" he replies anxiously. Well Kelly, you've really put yourself in a corner now. Yes, you really are stuck.